


Smite Me

by srmarybadass



Category: True Blood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-23
Updated: 2012-01-23
Packaged: 2017-10-30 00:14:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/325659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/srmarybadass/pseuds/srmarybadass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"No," Jason whispered. "This can't be happening. That psychopathic church bitch is <i>not</i> gonna be my last sex!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smite Me

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written/posted on LJ in August 2009.  
> Set right after 2.10.

“Get in, get in, _get in!_ ” Sam hissed, shoving Jason and Andy into the cheap motel room as quickly and quietly as possible- which was rather difficult, because Andy was drunk and Jason Stackhouse was _Jason Stackhouse_. With a last glance over his shoulder- no minions of the devil in sight- he shut the door, locked it, and slid the chain bolt shut before sagging against it in relief.

 

“Thanks for saving my ass back there, guys,” he said gratefully.

 

“Speaking of ass,” Andy grumbled. “You gonna put some pants on?”

 

Sam looked down. “Oh. Right. Yeah…pants.” He hopped back into his clothing with as much dignity as he could muster.

 

“Well, I’m going to take a shower,” Sam informed the room at large. “Try not to get killed while I’m in there.”

 

By the time Sam stepped out ten minutes later, freshly clean and smelling vaguely of peppermint- for reasons he could not begin to fathom- Andy was out cold on one bed and Jason was flicking through the channels on the other.

 

“He said something about having seen enough weird shit for one day before chugging most of the bottle of your best sherry and passing out,” Jason explained. “I tried to stop him from drinking it, but-”

 

“It’s all right,” Sam said. “At least someone appreciates it, although I wish he’d saved some for me. I could do with getting blind drunk right now.”

 

“So how did you manage to disappear back there?” Jason asked eagerly, sitting up like a puppy at attention. The irony was not lost on Sam.

 

Sam sighed and sat heavily on the bed. At this point, it didn’t matter if Jason knew or not, because they were all shot to hell anyway. “I’m a shapeshifter.”

 

Jason blinked.

 

“You know….a shapeshifter? I can turn into different animals?”

 

“Wow…. _really?_ ” Jason breathed. “Those are _real?”_

 

“You didn’t think vampires were the only things that went bump in the night, did you?” Sam grinned.

 

“Can you show me?” Jason begged. “Please?”

 

Sam sighed again. “Let me see.” He walked over to the window and, luckily, there was a stray cat parading by in all its mangy glory. The proprietor of Merlotte’s Bar & Grill turned to Jason, smiling cockily. Why not enjoy it a little? After all, it wasn’t exactly every day he got to show off his supernatural side. “You ready for this?”

 

Jason nodded and watched in amazement as Sam shrank into a small, rather scruffy cat. Between the cult fiasco, the vampire incident, the mild zombie problem, and now the whole “shapeshifting” thing, this was turning into the weirdest week of Jason’s life. And considering once he had woken up in Baton Rouge with three hundred dollars stuffed into his underwear, that was saying something.

 

Sam turned back into himself and pulled his clothes back on while Jason processed everything. This took a little while, Jason not being the sharpest knife in the cutlery drawer.

 

“So if you can do that, why don’t you just turn into, like, a lion and eat the bitch who’s causing this?” he asked. “Or, like, an elephant? You could step on her!”

 

“For one thing, I need to be able to see an animal before I turn into it, and lions are sort hard to come by in Louisiana,” Sam explained. “Besides, she can control how and when I change. Sort of. She can make me go from human to animal and back again if she wants.”

 

“Bitch,” Jason breathed. “So…what are we gonna do?”

 

Sam sighed and absentmindedly ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t know. I don’t know how to beat her, and I’m not sure how much longer we can hide before she finds us. Then she’ll sacrifice me to her- whatever god she worships, and she’ll probably kill you out of spite. She’s got quite a temper.”

 

“I noticed,” Jason muttered. “So…we’re going to die?”

 

“Yeah, probably,” Sam said grimly.

 

“Fuck,” Jason moaned, leaning back against the headboard. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuck.”

 

“Yep,” Sam added.

 

 _“No,_ ” Jason whispered. “This can’t be happening. That psychopathic church bitch is _not_ gonna be my last sex!”

 

“ _That’s_ what you’re worried about?” Sam blinked.

 

Jason just gave him a helpless look. Well, this _was_ Jason. Then Sam realized.

 

“Fuck! I don’t want my last sex on earth to be with a lying, two-faced traitor!”

 

“Now you see my problem,” Jason grinned.

 

The thought hit them simultaneously.

 

“I don’t suppose you can turn into a chick?” Jason asked hopefully.

 

Sam shook his head.

 

Jason looked at Sam.

 

Sam looked at Jason.

 

“We could-” Jason began.

 

“If that’s all right-”

 

“I mean, we’re friends-”

 

“No big deal-”

 

“Could be interesting-”

 

“You’re Sookie’s brother-”

 

“You’re her boss-”

 

“I mean, if you _wanted-”_

 

“Totally up to you, man-”

 

“Since we’re going to die anyway-”

 

“I’ve never- I mean, not with a _dude-”_

 

“Oh, I have, it’s no big deal-”

 

Jason blinked. “Wait. You’ve slept with another _guy?”_

 

Sam shrugged. “Yeah, a couple times. I mean, why not?”

 

“Well…how was it?”

 

Sam just grinned. “You won’t really know until you try, will you? Unless you’re too chicken?”

 

Nobody called Jason Stackhouse chicken and got away with it, so he scooted down to the end of the bed and kissed Sam Merlotte.

 

It wasn’t so bad, Jason reasoned. Sam’s lips were sort of chapped, but then again, he had spent the last week running for his life, so that was forgivable. And he was _strong_ \- even stronger than that bodybuilder chick Jason banged that one time, if the grip Sam had on his hips was any indication. Then Sam did something with his tongue that made Jason briefly forget who he was, and Jason decided that sex with dudes was definitely something to be researched. Thoroughly.

 

But Jason Stackhouse was not one to give up control easily, especially not to some shapeshifting bartender, so he summoned his own considerable strength and flipped them, pinning Sam beneath him. And that was another good thing about Sam, Jason thought- he didn’t have to pull his punches, so to speak. Sam wasn’t exactly a delicate flower, and he certainly wasn’t going to break. In fact, he actually _moaned_ when Jason tugged rather roughly on his shaggy hair.

 

 _“Fuck!_ ” Jason yelped quietly, sitting up, much to Sam’s disappointment. “What about Andy?”

 

Both men looked over at the lightly snoring lump across the room.

 

“He’ll be out for hours,” Sam pronounced.

 

Jason looked at him dubiously.

 

“I own a bar,” Sam pointed out, and Jason conceded that Sam was probably more knowledgeable about matters of drunkenness than himself. So he went back to sucking on Sam’s neck.

 

Sam growled- actually _growled_ \- which sent tingly waves of horny straight to Jason’s dick. Then he used his supernatural strength rather unfairly and rolled them over.

 

“Hey!” Jason protested when Sam ripped- actually _ripped_ \- his shirt off. “Seriously, dude?”

 

“Sorry, got a little carried away,” Sam apologized offhandedly, running his hands up and down Jason’s torso.

 

“’S okay,” Jason gasped when Sam replaced his hands with his mouth. And his _teeth_. “Get- this- _off_ ,” he panted, tugging at the hem of Sam’s shirt, which was rapidly dispensed with. And _hot damn_. Sam was _ripped._ Jason started to feel mildly inadequate, and that was before Sam shifted their hips together and the elder Stackhouse could feel- well.

 

Jason was outclassed.

 

But then Sam went back to kissing him and doing some weird circle-dance with his hips that actually felt _really really_ good, so Jason stopped caring.

 

“Well, Mr. Stackhouse?” Sam panted several minutes later, as both parties were attempting to undo the other’s pants, with varying degrees of success. “Are you going to smite me?”

 

“Actually,” Jason grinned happily. “I think it’s your turn to smite me.”

 

“Consider yourself smote,” Sam growled.

 

 

Several hours later, Andy Bellefleur woke up with a pounding headache. The first thing he grabbed for was the liquor bottle, only to find it empty, so he stumbled out of bed and lurched to the bathroom.

 

After drinking three glasses of water and taking twice the prescribed amount of Tylenol, he felt human enough to open his eyes as he walked out of the bathroom, and his slightly bleary gaze fell on the sight in the second bed.

 

Andy had seen a _lot_ of weird shit that week. In fact, between the zombie minions and the attempts at murder, Jason Stackhouse and Sam Merlotte naked, passed out, and possibly even _snuggling_ in bed together was probably the most _normal_ thing he’d seen all week.

 

So he went back to sleep.


End file.
